The Mushroom Cloud Chronicles - Apocalypse
by CdnJAGScribe
Summary: Harm, Mac and the rest of the JAG Crew find out just what it's like to live through an apocalypse. This is also a Sims 3 story as it's set in Sunset Valley and will also feature Electronic Arts - Sims 3 characters. If you want to read the story with pictures (from my Sims 3 game) you can go to Nikkei Simmer Sims Blogspot blog and read it there.
1. Chapter 1

_**The Mushroom Cloud Chronicles – Apocalypse -**_ **A JAG-Sims3 Story**

Author: Haruo Chikamori  
Rating: M  
Classification: Angst, Romance.  
Spoilers: N/A

Summary: Continuity of Government (COG) – I seem to have this fascination with apocalyptic stories. I don't know what it is, but here goes.

DISCLAIMER: The characters Harm Rabb, Jr., Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, Meg Austin, AJ Chegwidden, et al. belong (in concept if not name) to CBS/Bellisarius. Animal and all OC characters are the property of Heather and Hugo Chikamori. No profit is being made from this story, nor is any infringement intended.

The Sims 3 is an EA computer life simulation - and all computer coding for characters are owned by Electronic Arts. For those who want to read the story with pictures…the story is by Nikkei_Simmer…at Nikkei Simmer Sims – yes, that's me…

 _ **Pentagon, Office of the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Washington, DC, 1100 ZULU**_

"Come in..." the admiral stated as he looked casually in response towards the knock at the closed door. Admiral James Pointer, former Commander, Naval Forces Pacific and now Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff was not liking that he had to tell his former shipmate and subordinate flag officer about the way that the situation involving several Pacific Rim countries was shaping up. It all pointed to a nasty mess that could potentially touch off a conflagration in short order.

"You asked me to come see you, sir." Vice-Admiral Toshio "Animal" Nakamura stated as he stepped towards the desk; a worried look of question written all over his face.

Admiral Pointer looked up at the worried admiral with a sigh. "Have you seen the latest intel report? Animal, it's not looking good." Those four words sent a spear of ice through the vice-admiral.

"Did you hear about the situation?" a casually asked question couched in non-inflammatory words opened up the conversation as Admiral James Pointer looked over at Vice-Admiral Toshio "Animal" Nakamura.

"To be honest, I haven't been watching anything on the boob-tube lately" was his response. "There's nothing on TV other than Big Brother and it's not the thing that I want to watch." Animal's tone was dismissive of the trash that was on TV. Nothing worthwhile was ever found watching the TV. Most of it was escapist baloney.

Admiral Pointer got to the point quickly, "To make a long conversation short, Animal, I was just notified by the President himself via com that we're at DEFCON2. The whole situation in Asia has just blown up big time and our peckers are in the wood-fire. All we need now is for the Chinese and the Russians to jump in. The Japanese are screaming at us to do something and there's nothing that we can do? If we twitch, the Sovs are going to blow us off the face of the earth." the admiral sounded frustrated. Animal understood immediately the gravity of the situation.

The admiral pushed back his chair, stood up and walked over to Animal who was standing at ease. When the admiral stood next to him, he said, "No time for niceties...or formality. I need to make sure that none of this information goes outside these four walls. Do you understand the gravity of the matter?

The situation calls for unprecedented measures to preserve the continuity of government. I'm sure you're aware of the term?"

That pronouncement made Animal's hair on the back of his neck rise. He felt a prickle of sweat at his hairline as he stood at ease in front of the admiral's desk. "I am aware of the term, sir."

"Animal, I don't know if we're going to see the other end of this mess." Pointer replied; he looked as though the entire weight of the world rested on his shoulders. "It's a hard decision of who gets to live and who doesn't...who will be important to the rebuilding process. It's the kind of decision that is hard to fathom even contemplating, let alone having to make."

Animal understood all too well the process of making combat decisions and deciding what was considered acceptable risk in war-time. However it was sailors to whom he was responsible for and the lives of those who served under his command rested on his shoulders - whether they lived or died was based on his decision making. In a nuclear war, those at risk were everyone.

"We are in a grave situation where what happens next is what will determine the fate of mankind." It wasn't hyperbole. When it came down to a bunch of hairless apes tossing explosive projectiles at each other, things could rapidly go to hell in a handbasket really quickly. " Admiral James Pointer stated, gauging Animal's reaction to the news that he'd dropped on him earlier. "COMSEVENTHFLT just sent me the latest intel that says that the Task Force 82 has been sent into the Sea of Japan enroute to the China Sea to patrol the area and keep the tensions down." The Admiral looked towards the far wall in contemplation. "Right now the Chinese are at odds with the Japanese over the Senkaku Islands and with Taiwan trying its best to break away from China entirely exerting its sovereignty, it's a major hot-spot." Pointer cautioned. "If any spats are going to break out, it's going to be there. Xi-Jin Ping has been posturing at Taiwan and at Japan going so far as to send his missile boats to harass Japanese patrols of the area. They haven't fired anything but it's only a matter of time."

Animal stood silent, he was weighing his odds of survival at this point.

Admiral Pointer stared at Animal gauging Animal's competence for the duties that he was going to assign to him, "The likelihood of Japan and China going to war is around eighty-five percent at this point." That was no shocker at any rate. The Chinese and the Japanese didn't like each other after the events of the Second World War in Nanjing and the Chinese were looking for any excuse to pummel the Japanese back into the Stone Age. "China is holding the nuclear sword of Damocles over the Japanese...if they even attempt to land on Senkaku and establish a beach-head there to exert their sovereignty and the Japanese are going to defend the islands there...with everything they've got; especially now that there's the possibility of oil there. And that is the reason why that area is so hotly contested. I don't like the looks of it, Animal... and this one seriously looks as though it's going to get out of hand." The admiral said soberly. "...and if that happens... ... **God help us all**..."

 _ **Outside the Naval Intelligence Headquarters, Norfolk, VA 0328 ZULU**_

"I am standing outside the Headquarters of the Naval Intelligence...where inside many personnel are trying to determine carefully what the next move of Russian President Vladimir Putin after the leader stated that Russia would not back down from any aggression by the West." A drenching downpour from the storm system that had opened the skies up above Norfolk had made the reporter from ZNN soaked from her head to her toes. It had been a sunny day up to that point and the sudden change in the weather plotted an ill-portent of events to come. But she pushed her way through her editorial in hopes that she could get the hell out of the rain and dry off.

"So we are no clearer on the situation at hand and while the Crimean Peninsula dissolves into a firestorm, China has been threatening Japan with retaliation should they set foot on the Senkaku Islands." Raising her hands so that she could show the viewers just how frustrating and tenuous the situation was – all it really showed was that she was soaked to the skin. It really only was a concern to the politicians who made the rules and governed foreign relations which most were so incompetent it was a wonder that the planet was still intact in the end.

"With four countries waging a war of words at this point on who is at fault, it is uncertain that anything will get resolved any time soon. Rebecca Landon, ZNN News, Norfolk..."

The newscamera crew ran his hand across his throat to denote that the news broadcast had cut off. "OK, Jonesy, get me out of this damned rain, will you. I'm dripping wet." Rebecca was surly; she hated broadcasting bad news and this one looked as though it was going to get much worse.

 _ **JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA, 0330 ZULU**_

"We have been hearing the inflammatory words from the West; that they seek to exert their will on the Pacific. They have told us in no uncertain terms that they are prepared to resort to force to achieve their goals.

These bombastic words from the West are nothing new. We have heard it for many decades. And we have not gone to war for it. But Russia needs not heed what the West says in exerting our own sovereignty over our territorial waters or our own land. In short Russia does not need to heed these words from the West, but the West should heed the words coming from all those who oppose her.

Russia seeks not to strike the first blow, but rest assured, if met with force; Russia will do whatever it deems necessary to preserve its sovereignty and its people." The broadcast from the Kremlin was met with a lot of scepticism from the JAG office bullpen. At first there was silence in the bullpen as the officers watched the screen then there was incredulous gasps of amazement at the audacity of Putin but they of all people understood the enormity of the situation. The rhetoric being tossed about by both world leaders could potentially lead to an incendiary conflict that could wipe humanity off the face of the planet if they weren't careful. But they were only JAG officers and what could they really do? Shuffling legal papers around and determining what actions were legal on the battlefield was their forte. It wasn't exactly within their pay-grade to ascertain what could or couldn't be done in the field of international relations. Other than the minutiae of legal ramifications, the government politicians were the ones that negotiated foreign relations and all that the legal beagles could do were to let the politicians know what exactly was legal and what could constitute sedition.

"Isn't that just like them..." muttered RADM AJ Chegwidden as he glowered at the TV screen. "You give them an inch; they'll try to take a mile. Never liked working with them when they were friendly."

"I don't trust them, sir." Harm said, with no small amount of venom. He still had issues from when his father had been held in Russia and eventually died there. "It seems like they're back to the Cold War posture."

"Understandable, Captain, they've got an old KGB guy holding the reins." Chegwidden stated, matter of fact. "Naturally, they're a suspicious bunch and no wonder they're trying to freeze us out. You saw what happened in Crimea."

"They trained us up to fight them..." Mac interjected making a face, "Then they told us to be friendly to them. I expected that they'd turn on us. I don't trust them either. That line of drivel coming out of Putin's mouth..."

"OH MY GOD!" interjected Captain Liandra Gracen who was still staring at the television screens. "Oh...dear God...help us..." When the entire staff turned to look at her at her horrified exclamation, she pointed at the television screen, "On the screen!" Lia motioned to her colleagues. "Oh my god...China just started a shooting war..." Dead silence reigned among her colleagues as they all stared at the television screens in dumbstruck horror.

On the screen were horrific scenes of destruction as ZNN scrolled news feed minute by minute of the impending devastation. _Chinese attack Japanese airfields_ scrolled one, while on another monitor _First Wave of Missile Attacks on Hakodate_ and a third: _USS Monaghan struck by Air to Sea missiles._

There were no words to be said, They all knew what a shooting war meant in the Pacific.

 _ **White House Press Conference Room, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington, DC, 0553 ZULU**_

"My fellow Americans, there is no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to come out and say it succinctly. We are at war." President Barack Obama stood at the dais, an expression on his face that could only be described as shock that hadn't set in yet; frankly it was as if he was operating on autopilot, an automaton reading out lines on a teleprompter.

"Earlier today, the USS Monaghan was patrolling in the Sea of Japan when it took a direct hit from several air to surface missiles launched from a Chinese Bear. Since the warhead was so large and so many hits were sustained by the cruiser, she went to the bottom with all hands on board. We know that it was the Chinese because they have been stating that they will defend their territory against any incursion by foreign powers: meaning us." Obama seemed to come alive at that statement he read out and gesticulated with a raised finger.

"We will not take the loss of our US Navy ship lightly nor will we allow them to carry on attacking other ships with impunity. This attack on our naval asset requires the most severe of retributive action." His tone changed from resigned to determined.

We will not forget those who sacrificed their lives protecting our nation and we will avenge their loss."

 _ **JAG Headquarters, Falls Church, VA, 0610 ZULU**_

It was a subdued crowd gathered around the TV monitors, as they listened to the speech from the White House. Wide eyes, hitched breaths, and a solemn gathering pervaded over the bullpen as the broadcast from the White House ended. There was nothing more to be said.

 _ **Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI), National Maritime Intelligence Center, Suitland, MD**_

Captain Bruce Carmichael sat in his office contemplating the events of the day. He'd never thought the Chinese had the gumption to do what they just did. After having advised the President that there had been no possible way that the Chinese would attack under any circumstance due to the possibility of US intervention, he had been mistaken and the lives of 473 men onboard the USS Monaghan, as a result, had been lost. Such was the gamble of diplomacy and the inner workings of the steps taken to maintain it - a finely tuned game of chess. Such a game was not for the faint of heart as the ramifications of this game had global implications.

Bruce was no shrinking violet with regards to the tough matter in life, but nothing scared him more than the threat of nuclear war. When both sides of the six-legged nuclear table were rock-solidly planted on the ground, there was nothing to fear; but when one of the legs was kicked out from under the table, then that stability was no longer there.

The game of intelligence was a game of cat and mouse and he had done things that he'd regretted. He'd frozen out his Academy classmate from learning things that would have protected his legal partner about a potential assassination plot that had occurred during the course of a Summit meeting on U.S. soil and he'd pretty much lost that friendship. And that particular friend was shot in the head. She had survived the incident, albeit with some memory loss of that particular traumatic event, but Harm had never forgiven him for that. Of course, irony had it that that former legal partner of Harm's had now been working for the better part of several decades in Naval Intelligence herself.

But with an impending war; he felt he needed to do the right thing. As much as he needed her assistance in sorting out this mess of information, he had to make sure that she was protected.

The Chinese had attacked the mainland with conventional weapons but Bruce had no doubt in his mind that the entire globe would be embroiled in nuclear conflict within a matter of weeks. In a global war situation, the first side that cracked open the nuclear genie would start a cascade of events that would eventually end with total annihilation of the human race. That was the stark reality of what had transpired at Alamagordo Bombing and Test Range on July 16, 1945 when J. Robert Oppenheimer had uttered the prophetic words, " _We knew the world would not be the same, A few people laughed, a few people cried, most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu Scripture, the Bhaghavad-Gita, Vishnu trying to persuade the Prince; he should do his duty and to impress him, he had taken on his multi-armed form, and says, "Now I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds..."_

From the moment that any country decided to pick up a weapon and started a shooting war, a timer to nuclear annihilation was started. When tempers were short, those who had access to the missile triggers had to be of sound mind to determine a lawful order to launch from one that wasn't. And if a country had a hot-head in charge of the nuclear launch codes, then peace was tenuous. Everyone in the world relied on the fact that the other side wouldn't be the first to lose their temper and initiate the destruction of the world.

Those in the intelligence community knew just how little it took to initiate a conflict; it could be an assassination, a disagreement over a border-line or even as little as a few rash words. Bruce had seen regional conflicts flare up as a result of differences in religious faith so he had no faith in the stability of world leaders to keep the peace and so...as the world spiralled out of control, he sat staring silently at the wall in contemplation of what he had to do. to protect those he cared about.

The matter of peace was out of his hands - he didn't have the control to those reins; his only means of control was knowing more about the other side's moves than his counterpart on the other-side knew about his. If the world came to an end, it would be a harsh and unforgiving climate, if there was any reason to survive at all. He had read the studies on environmental consequences of nuclear war coming from the esteemed professors in research at the University of Colorado at Boulder, Rutgers and the University of California and it was bleak. And that was a best-case scenario if anyone survived at all. If there was any reason to survive.

Bruce knew that he would rather eat the muzzle of his service weapon than have to survive in the wasteland post-nuclear apocalypse. After all, he'd been living in a personal hell of his own for the past eight years. Everything that made life worth living had gone one day eight years ago. Nuclear war would be the final straw.

A knock at the door interrupted his morbid train of thought.

"Come in...", Bruce stated, he'd called to ask to speak to her. As she strode in; a tall 5 foot 11 statuesque blonde, he knew just what Harm saw in her. She was keenly intelligent (as demonstrated over the decades that she'd worked with him) and she was beautiful, a rare combination. But Bruce was bent on setting things right and he just casually nodded to her as she stepped into his office.

"You asked to see me, sir?" Even though they were of equal rank, Captain Meg Austin deferred to him as he was many days her senior (he had been in that rank a lot longer than she had).

"You are aware of the document Pinnacle?"

"Only in passing, sir." was Meg's reply. She looked rather confused as to why she was being asked this, but that was only a short moment of confusion as Bruce clarified in his next sentence the reasoning behind the question.

"Let me give you a brief rundown. In 1953, when President Eisenhower first entered office, he issued an executive order consolidating a plan for the continuity of government in the case of a national emergency - that national emergency being the initiation of total nuclear war and the imminent destruction of the United States of America."

As a military officer, Meg realized the implications of this...and with great effort managed to confine her reaction to just a brief exhale of breath. "Sir?"

"In the case of a conflict that threatens to escalate into nuclear war, the President has the authorization to initiate Pinnacle...and the JCS has just received that authorization with the proper authentication codes attached. The President of the United States has just initiated Pinnacle."

"I've been asked by the commanding officer of Naval Intelligence to provide a list of those within our infrastructure critical to the intelligence community who are to be transported to the safe facility. Meg, you...are on that list."

"...but what about you, Bruce?" This was a time to break military formality if Meg ever knew. Bruce sighed, as he got up out of his chair and went to look out at the window.

Bruce Carmichael didn't bother answering the question, "The world is a beautiful place, Meg. I thought it was something that you could count on to always be there; the trees, the flowers, the lakes..." his tone was pensive. "...at least I thought that when I was growing up..." he stated softly. "That was before I entered the Navy and saw the evil in the world. There's so much beauty on the earth, yet there are people who seek to destroy all that. When nuclear war happens...and I'm not saying _if_ , Meg, I'm saying when, because I know for a fact that if Russia gets involved this war will go hot, this world will no longer be a place worth living, but for only the hardiest; the most mentally strong. If you had asked me that question, nine years ago, I would have probably told you a different answer; I lost that will...eight years ago, Meg, ...there's nothing left for me...other than my work...and once that is finished...then..." he left the sentence unfinished.

"Sharon?" was Meg's only question.

Bruce's silence was her only answer, but she knew that when Sharon had died, a part of Bruce had gone with her. Seeing him take very little time off while she was undergoing chemo treatments; the pained look on his face everytime he came into work, as she had wasted away...the devastation on his face when he realized that the treatments were no longer holding back that cancer that was eating away at her...and then the utterly broken man that he became when she had finally died.

There was nothing else to be said. But when Bruce suddenly turned away from the window and strode towards her, it startled her because she hadn't been expecting that sudden motion and the grim determination in his eyes scared her. "Meg..." he said, "You have something to live for." he said, his voice firm and a tone of command in his voice, "You...are being selected because your work is crucial...to the survival of everyone in the bunker that you are assigned to."

"You have to carry on...the legacy of the human race...along with those chosen to survive." His voice held a hint of madness, of desperation. "Carry on, Meg…You need to…for humanity's future. I don't know what the situation will be like, Meg...up top after that bombs fall and there is no telling what will happen, the only thing that I'm thankful for if this goes down is that maybe there is a God...and maybe He'll be forgiving enough for all the sins that I've done, to allow me to be with Sharon for eternity."

"I'm sorry, Bruce..." was all that Meg could say. She would gratefully accept any chance to live, but her heart mourned for the Captain who had lost so much. "I guess this is it..."

Bruce looked down at his feet, "I did wrong by Harm in not telling you about Hemlock which ultimately got you shot...and I've had to live with that for over fifteen years, Meg. I pulled some strings and tried to find out if Harm was being assigned to a bunker. He was...and then I pulled some further strings to get you to THAT bunker. It's my way of penance. May good fortune travel with you...Meg, whereever the events of this world may take you." Bruce stated. "Fair Winds…and Following Seas, shipmate…"

The lumps in both their throats were too big for them to speak further.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Admiral Pointer's Officer, Pentagon, Washington DC, 1338 ZULU**_

"Mr President, When my men and women arrive, you have the floor. I appreciate the fact that you have come down to the Pentagon yourself in order to deliver the news." Admiral Pointer stated to the President of the United States as the leader of the Free World, looked back at the admiral with a look of resigned grimness.

"Admiral, I couldn't ask your men and women to do something that goes against the very nature of their protecting the population of our country in favor of protecting themselves unless I made it a direct order. It was the only thing that I could do. Your men are selfless and courageous...and have gone into harm's way many times, but I'm asking them now to put their own lives ahead of the general populace in this case. We can't save everybody in the country, but we will most assuredly try to make certain that as many people are saved as possible." Obama looked over at Pointer and nodded to him despite the pressing nature of the business that they were elected to carry out. "It will be a harsh and unrelenting world that we will face after the bombs fall should the Chinese and the Russians decide to instigate nuclear war. The harsh fact of this, Admiral is the main reason why I've chosen military personnel to be a part of the re-building process. I don't know what the world will look like after a war but from what I can tell from the scientists and researchers is that we will end up in a nuclear winter from which there is no return within our lifetime so I can only pray that this is a false alarm and that we will go back to the status quo."

There was a knock at the door and the President looked over at Admiral Pointer. "I'll let you do the honors, Admiral."

"Come in!" barked Admiral Pointer. When the door opened, he smiled, "Good morning, Captain Austin. It's good that you could make it on short notice like this."

It looked as though Meg was weary but she gave Admiral Pointer a brief smile as she snapped to attention and then immediately came to parade rest two feet away from the front of his desk.

Her eyes gazed around the room and she was greeted by someone she hadn't been expecting to see; the President of the United States.

While her mind was racing, she was flanked by two flag officers, one of them a vice-admiral who came to crisp attention and then parade rest to her right. "Nice to see you, Captain Austin, it's been a long time..." sounded in her left ear as her former commanding officer, when she was a Lieutenant JG, came to parade rest by her left.

"Long story..." she said out of the corner of her mouth, "...sir."

"I bet..." was RADM AJ Chegwidden's reply.

"Thank you for coming..." the President of the United States said, "I wish that this meeting could have been a much more auspicious occasion than a prelude to a conversation that I did not ever wish to have." After pausing for a long moment, President Barack Obama stated to the assembled military officers, "We stand on the brink of the precipice." the President stated with a grim countenance. "...and unlike the many times before, I have no faith that we will be able to step back from it again." he looked over at the military officers in front of him. You have been chosen as the leadership of a bunker located in Sunset Valley...you will leave within two days. I leave the selection of your bunker occupants to you since you know your men and women under your command a lot better than I do." Sighing, the President closed his eyes momentarily before affixing them on the assemblage yet again, "I don't relish the decision making process, Admirals and Captain; I know that you have tough decisions ahead on who survives and who doesn't."

The weight of those words was heavy in the room and the officers looked over at Admiral Pointer; but he had no advice to give. The ramifications of just how horrific the situation had spiralled out of control had become apparent.

"What do we tell those whom we've relegated to die?" the vice-admiral asked, "Mr. President?" There was a sharp tone of censure in his voice, "With all due respect, Mr. President, these are men and women that I've served with for many years and now you're asking us to condemn them to hellfire and incineration." With the fate of the world hanging in the balance, it was a question that needed to be asked; the President wasn't about to tell Admiral Pointer to invoke the Uniform Code of Military Justice here. He needed the man to understand.

"I understand...Admiral, I understand all too well the gravity of the decisions you are asked to undertake, but rest assured admiral, you are only having to make those decisions for a certain number of your assigned men and women under your command." The taciturn look on his face could not disguise the genuine sadness in his eyes as he continued, "Take that decision and multiply it by 326,700,000 plus souls, Admiral...I'm sure that you will have security concerns in the bunker at Sunset Valley, so I've assigned you a security specialist. I'm sure he will be familiar to one of you military officers." The door opened and footsteps were heard behind the flag officer. VADM Nakamura started as he saw a flash of Marine Green going past his line of sight and entering into his field of vision.

"Good to see, you, sahr!" a gravelly voice he'd hadn't heard for near long enough permeated his auditory canals as the gorilla of a man looked back over his shoulder. It brought PTSD flashbacks to his time in ROTC where he'd been psychologically beaten to a pulp by this brute of a man; the drill instructors knew how to tear a person down and then build them back up stronger than before...and this was what then-Staff Sergeant Elmo Stacker had done to the officer candidates at ROTC. Looking over at the Marine, he'd saw that he'd accumulated three more rockers and a pineapple (a bursting bomb)...in lieu of the crossed rifles under his Sergeant's stripes. "Mr. President..." now Master Gunnery Sergeant Elmo Stacker, United States Marine Corps, growled, because that's what his voice sounded like; a morning repast of razor blades, nails and other assorted metal staples, gargled with battery acid and a handful of gravel as an appetizer: just your typical Marine Corps breakfast fare.

By this time, VADM Toshio Nakamura was so non-plussed he was unsure what to think and since the President had allowed them to relax from parade rest, he just stood there, a shocked expression on his face and scratched his head in confusion.

"Mr. President..." the Master Guns said as he peered out the window at parade rest. "I would need to ascertain the location and scout the area before I can give an authoritative report on how best to outfit the complex for defence." His voice sounded like his larynx had been soothed with a rasp file. "Nothin' ruins a day more completely than Comrade Zipper-head dropping a three megaton right on top of our heads...but you can't do much about that...so I'll have to start with conventional bombs and work my way down."

"Well, Master Guns, I'm sure that you'll find a way to secure the site." the President said, turning to the officers, "All of you will be assigned to Sunset Valley..." the President gave the Master Guns his full support then turned to Admiral Pointer and the rest of the officers. "I hope that we can come to a resolution before the conflict reaches its tipping point. But if the worst should happen, humanity will not go extinct. We will make a comeback...and God willing, our species will survive and rebound. Godspeed and God Bless..." the President stated as he looked over at each and every one of them.

"...and may God preserve us all..."

 _ **RADM Thomas Boone's House, Virginia Beach, VA, 2245 ZULU**_

The retired rear admiral's voice had a note of surprise as Harm walked up the driveway to the admiral's home as Rear Admiral (ret.) Thomas Boone was outside watering his plants. "Howdy, Rabb, what brings you out this way? You get lost or something?"

"Good afternoon, sir..."

Boone snorted, "Knock it off with the sir, Rabb, I'm retired. At least that's what my ruptured duck and DD-214 informs me. You're here in civvie clothes so it mustn't be that important. So what gives?"

Harm cut directly to the point, "CAG...have you heard about what's going on in the Pacific lately?"

The former CAG was rather cagey when he replied, "I might have heard whispers of something...through the ol' retarred Navy castaways grape-vine. Pretty dang serious if you ask me." Through official channels, the grape-vine didn't exist. But old navy men talked...and things got around to former navy men. He idly kicked a clump of dirt off the driveway. "Over 400 men gone...That's a pretty nasty pill to swallow. Sounds like CINCPAC and COMNAVFORJAPAN are on the hot-seat."

"CAG...they've instituted Pinnacle..." Harm's comment silenced Boone who looked pensive at the statement.

"It's that bad, huh?" Boone replied after a long moment to contemplate what Harm had said, "I can't say that I wasn't expecting this...after the shooting started. The Chinese must really want to sock it to us really bad...so they hit Japan too." Boone contemplated as he looked directly at Harm. "What was it that Pointer wanted?" Boone said.

Harm gulped, "I know you're retired, Admiral, but Pointer wanted you back."

" Boone snorted, "I thought they tossed me out in disgrace. I'm surprised they'd even want to be within a hundred miles of me after the court-martial."

"They never found you guilty, CAG." Harm stated.

"So what the heck do they expect me to do? It'd cost them too much to train me for type." Boone snorted in disbelief.

"They don't want you in an F-18, sir. What they need you to do is to be a part of the leadership in the bunker, sir. They need you there as another steady hand in the leadership role."

CAG looked down at his feet and kicked a rock that had fallen off the dirt mound that he'd erected around the plants "Harm, I'm getting old...and I've been through too much to be afraid to die. You're not blowing sunshine up my rectal cavity, are you?"

"Pointer specifically asked for you, CAG...and Tosh put in a good word for you because he wanted you there specifically as his XO in the bunker." Harm stated, fixing the CAG with a pleading stare. "Sir, they need you."

Boone chuckled wryly, "Assignments to the bunker are by Presidential order only and I don't think you've got enough pull to get me on there, but I'll bite. Better than dying in a blaze of hell-fire any day of the week."

"Would you believe me if I told you the President OK'd it in person?" Harm insisted.

"If that was possible, Harm, I'd start believing in unicorns, the tooth-fairy and sparkly vampires."

 _ **Sunset Valley, California; 6 days later**_

Sunset Valley, a sleepy little military town; home to a base with a rocket launch pad making it one of the major bases around the country. And unfortunately, for Sunset Valley, it made it a prime target for any one of the nuclear powers to launch an ICBM tipped with a 1MT nuclear warhead at it. Considering it was a population center and a military base, it was quite probable that said country would launch two at it and the population would fry.

No one was quite sure of why the government chose to place a military base in this town, but for one, the economy certainly dictated that it was a military town. There were many who served in the military and as such the town's economy revolved around that main source of jobs, whether it was the civilian population who worked at the base or whether it was those in support of the base being in town providing supplies and generally being supportive of the military personnel there on-base, although there were its share of detractors, especially those who didn't want a bulls-eye on their sleepy little town.

Needless to say, Vice-Admiral Tosh Nakamura got a good idea of what the town was like on their flight into Major Stanley Gnome Air Force Base. Major Stanley Gnome, United States Army Air Force, was a Medal of Honor recipient in the battle of Guadalcanal during World War Two; low on fuel he laid down suppressive fire from his P-38 Lightning; supporting the Army troups until his fuel completely ran out and he had to ditch his P-38. Seeing an enemy machine gun emplacement on the ridge firing upon the US troops, he decided to put his P-38 right into said emplacement saving dozens if not hundreds of lives. Seeing that the Army brigadier general in command of the Army division assaulting Guadalcanal recommended Major Stanley Gnome, posthumously, for the Medal of Honor. Most people, in Sunset Valley, were unaware of the heroic acts of the base's namesake, but VADM Toshio Nakamura made it a point to stop by the memorial marker of Major Stanley Gnome to pay his respects.

When they got to the bunker that the Seabees had finished building, it was quite the structure. Even Master Gunnery Sergeant Elmo Stacker was impressed by the magnitude of the structure. This was a building designed to withstand the forces of a nuclear explosion in close proximity...however within a mile of the structure, all bets were off if it was over ten megatons. But placing trees around the area would certainly cut down on the wind generated by the blast. And that was a suggestion that the Master Guns informed the Vice-Admiral about. It could be done; the Department of Defense had allocated over $90M to the task of making sure the bunker was impregnable.

After all...the walls were double-thickness to keep the radiation out; and the clean air in and there were air-recirculation fans that allowed the entire facility to remain sealed for a generation - that was estimated by environmental scientists, dedicated to that area of post-apocalyptic research, how long it would take for radiation levels to come down to a safe level . After that, however they would have to start making their way in the world or what was left of it.

Master Gunnery Sergeant Stacker made the first foray to the bookstore to obtain some skill books (that they hadn't learned yet, such as gardening, cooking and other necessary survival skills – they would have to pass on the education that they had learned as well to future generations), as the entire bunker needed to read and learn their skills so that they would be able to survive once the next bunker generation emerged from the bunker...to make their way towards habitable land. They would have to know everything that they needed to make sure that they were able to survive; long enough to let the human race, establish a foothold back on the planet. Because right now things were not looking good for the human race with how they seemed oblivious to the precipitous headlong rush towards the abyss. But Master Guns Stacker had a job to do and he didn't have time to contemplate the whys, wherefores and the meaning behind all this mess. The only thing that he contemplated was the how of getting the job done.

...and THAT was the main reason why President Obama selected Master Guns Stacker to be a part of the group that was the main leadership within the bunker, with Vice-Admiral Toshio Nakamura the commanding officer, Rear Admiral Thomas Boone, the executive officer and the Master Guns Stacker as the Command NCO in charge of security...and the enlisted part of the Naval contingent within the bunker would be under the command of Command Master Chief Jennifer Coates. Even though she was one of the youngest of the adults, she had been in the Navy long enough to achieve her E-9 grade; one of the youngest Command Master Chiefs in the United States Navy.

Of course first things first in the bunker after food supplies were brought in meant that said food supplies would have to be cooked and there were two teppanyaki grills within the bunker. The first attempts didn't go so well. Thank goodness for fire-retardent nomex chef suits or poor Captain Kimber Benton would have been charred to a crispy critter.

Let's just say that Tosh didn't fare much better either.

With a single elevator in play in the entire bunker, it was certainly quite the problem to get anywhere, but well, they would have to make do. Hopefully the entire elevator system was Faraday-caged so that when the bombs dropped, the EMP wouldn't wipe out their systems.

Stocking up the pantry and the fridge took multiple trips to the store and the CO of the bunker was up for that duty too. So he took the Stryker and headed out to the grocery store. Let's just say that the populace of Sunset Valley was rather non-plussed to see an Armored Personnel Carrier come rolling down the streets of their sleepy little town. Beau Andrews, was probably mumbling in his cups about some government conspiracy..."Hey...that's why they're here...they're out to get our..." Most of the populace tended to ignore his ranting.

Also after stopping by the food store, he headed over to the bookstore to acquire some more skill books. Having enough skill books for all of them to read was essential to ensuring that they made the most of their time in the bunker and equipped their offspring with the necessary skills to survive. Until they got skilled enough to make food that was palatable, their diet was going to consist of microwaved hot-dogs.

...and days consisted of heading out into town to stock up on supplies and making sure that they had enough items stocked away to be self-sufficient if the worst happened. Most of the first week of living in the bunker amounted to just making sure that everything was supplied and making in-roads with the community at large. They realized that they needed a substantial subset of the population around child to teen-ager to form a transition group to lead the group out of the bunker, the ones that would grow to mature adult and take the reins of leadership from those who lived their lives in the bunker, so they would draw from that from the civilian population, and drill them into military people who had the courage, the strength and the will to survive even the harshest of situations.

What that meant was essentially asking their parents to give them up so that their children could have a chance to survive. Some parents would refuse, other parents would acquiesce selflessly. Most were hoping that the worst would never happen; others having seen the news were fatalistic; the latter were the most likely to let their children go with absolute strangers in the hopes that they would be able to survive the impending holocaust.

and the heated rhetoric between both sides continued as the Russian and US President waged a war of words with lives hanging in the balance.

 _ **Bunker Roof, Sunset Valley, CA 2245ZULU**_

"Gentlemen..." VADM Toshio Nakamura, Captain Harmon Rabb Jr, and MGSGT Elmo Stacker stood on the roof of the hangar on top of the roof of the bunker. "There is a reason why you are up here on this roof with me in full battle-rattle. I wanted to stress a point and make that crystal clear...are you reading me on this?"

"Aye-aye, sir."

"Oorah, sir!"

"Do you think that we are in a friendly zone?" the response was uncertain as if the men were puzzled as to the question. Considering that Harm was what would be considered a REMF, he was certainly not in a battle mind-set like those who had been in combat day in and day out for the past twenty odd years.

"The captain doesn't understand, sir." Harm said, a clear look of confusion in his eyes. There was a light of understanding in the Master Gunnery Sergeant's eyes. Such was the difference between a rear-echelon pencil-pusher and a Combat Marine. The combat Marine's mental gears were consistently in motion.

"I see, sir." the Marine Master Guns replied.

"Correct, Master Guns." VADM Tosh Nakamura had a grim look on his face. "We are in a war. When the Chinese dropped explosives on the USS Monaghan; we were instantly at war. In this kind of war, there are no friendlies. You do not know where the attack is coming from. You may think that this is home field; that kind of thinking kills. Unless it is someone who lives in this bunker, you do not trust anyone. From now on, when you step outside the bunker to collect supplies, you dress in play-clothes. Full kit, magazines of ammo, frag grenades, M4 and above all, collect your brain from your nightstand and stick it in your cranium, Is that understood?"

"Aye-aye, sir."

"Oorah, sir!" Master Guns Stacker replied, thought a moment and then stated jocularly, "Sir, we go totin' M4s around outside the wire and the cage kickers will pee themselves."

"Well, Master Guns, just make sure you tell them _we're friendly_." All three men nearly bent over laughing, partly at the ludicrousness of the statement.

Just then a sudden motion caught the men's attention... "Movement, sir!" Harm barked.

"Terry in the wire, sir...looks like he's scouting our position. I heard that there were cells in the area. There was some intel from one of the Air Force guys that they've been eyeing our location." Master Guns Stacker stated as he looked over the fence on the roof, holding his M4 carbine.

VADM Nakamura looked through the binoculars at the insurgent standing out in the field and asked for verification, "How close is he to the perimeter? Master Guns?"

"I'd say about five hundred feet, sir."

"Take him out, Master Guns."

"Oorah, sir." Sighting in his scope, Stacker took the shot; and the insurgent was hit several times...

The tracer rounds (one every fourth round from the 5.56×45mm NATO round (which meant three bullets along with one tracer ended up firing. Master Guns fired for effect with his M4 carbine when all of a sudden, the terrorist blew up.

"Holy FUCK!" was the exclamation coming from three dropped mouths as the pressure wave from the explosion rattled the equipment around them. "Fucking Jesus Christ! Johnny Jihad blew himself to shit..." Master Guns exclaimed as the fireball rose into the air.

"Fucking hell! We were fucking lucky this time. From now on, no hesitation; Master Guns, our troops in Afghanistan and Iraq face this decision every single day. If we let him get too darned close, he could potentially damage the structural integrity of our wall and with the world situation as it stands, we don't have the time to question the motive. We don't have the time to repair the wall if the balloon goes up." the vice-admiral said. "The lives of our men and women would be in danger, gentlemen. From now on, you see the shot, you take it, that's an order. I don't care if it looks like a friendly. If he doesn't look familiar and doesn't answer the challenge...you drop him, is that understood?"

"Sir, Yes, Sir." Stacker understood all too well, having served in Afghanistan. Too many situations like this required him to take matters into his own hands where if a truck wasn't stopping at the checkpoint, he emptied the magazine into the truck. No amount of lives were worth the lives of his men and he saw that his former charge, now commanding officer, saw the very same thing. Certainly it was horrible, repugnant even to those who have never been in combat, but if a person was loaded up with explosives intent on taking you out, better that you got him before he got you. Too many of his men had to make that same decision in the heat of battle and sometimes they got it wrong, but those who were back in the world, were able to see the results of those decisions and play armchair quarterback critique but were loathe to don uniform, pick up a rifle and stand a post.

William Tecumseh Sherman said it best; _I've been where you are now and I know just how you feel. It's entirely natural that there should beat in the breast of every one of you a hope and desire that some day you can use the skill you have acquired here._

 _Suppress it! You don't know the horrible aspects of war. I've been through two wars and I know. I've seen cities and homes in ashes. I've seen thousands of men lying on the ground, their dead faces looking up at the skies. I tell you, war is Hell!_

Turning to Harm, the vice-admiral growled, "Any objections, sea-lawyer?"

"None, sir." Harm looked like he'd been pole-axed, he'd taken his share of lives, but a clinical killing from a distance at this range was certainly a different story, but when Tosh put it this way, he had a point.

"If we can get terror cells in the United States, we can get them anywhere. This is not friendly territory, gentlemen, not here; not anywhere...and it's going to get worse when the balloon goes up, because we'll get home grown ones on top of the ones comin' over." barked the vice-admiral, "As of now we have orders from the President of the United States, any terrorist; foreign or home-grown, we drop on sight. Is that understood?!"

"Aye-aye, sir."

"Oorah, sir!"

 _ **Downstairs in Bunker, Sunset Valley, CA, 2320ZULU**_

Meanwhile, River McIrish was trying her best to learn how to cook. One of the things that the kids needed to learn to do was to ensure that their skills revolved around keeping food in the fridge for the men and women to eat. It meant survival…and survive was what everyone in the bunker intended to do.


End file.
